Time Trials
by Elizabeth M. Hazlett
Summary: Local, seasoned athletes disappear on the roads near Branson, MO, only to be found days later. Surely, that has nothing to do with the recent lights in the sky.
1. Chapter 1

Time Trials

By: Elizabeth M. Hazlett

Rated T

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Summary: Local, seasoned athletes disappear on the roads near Branson, MO, only to be found days later. Surely, that has nothing to do with the recent lights in the sky.

Chapter 1

It was an endless sea of green. The lush forestry covered the countryside with rows upon rows of trees, their tops illustrating the ebb and flow of the land. It flowed, uninterrupted for miles, wave after wave of relentless green. Even the pervasive stretch of tar, which dwarfed in size, could not impede the vast waves of nature.

The highway gave the two cyclists plenty of room to increase their speed. They pedaled leisurely along the lengthy straightaway. The man, early in his twenties, held a slight lead over his blonde cohort, who was equal in age. He looked over his left shoulder to check on her. He slowed slightly, allowing her to come to the right of him.

"How ya feeling?" He hollered over the whistling wind.

"Not to bad!" She hollered back. He smiled, the apple of his cheeks caused his reflective sunglasses to raise slightly. She smiled in return.

"We're gonna hit a curve on an incline, you'll want to change speeds," he motioned with his wrist. "It'll be tight, then once we reach the top, we can just ride it down."

"Got it!"

Passing the mileage road sign, the man gave signal to change speeds. Each bike clicked and clattered as the tension on the chain changed. The blonde fell in line behind her counterpart. They pedaled effortfully, pushing themselves to reach the top. Sweat dripped down their brows, as the sun's afternoon rays took no mercy on their perilous endeavor. They panted for air, as their legs continued up and down, pushing, fighting for the next pedal. She clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to slow down, to give in and quit.

"Almost there!" He yelled, fighting through his own fatigue. Slower, they rode, slower and slower, until they reached the top.

Once the road leveled out, he let out a huff of relief and laughed triumphantly. Rounding the corner, they began their descent.

Catching their breath, they rode without pedaling. The wind whistled loudly in their ears while their road tires hissed against the asphalt. Gradually they picked up speed.

Suddenly, an overwhelming pressure washed over the two. It pressed against their chests, making it difficult to breath, then their heads. A reverberating sound of being pulled through water while in a tunnel nearly blew out their eardrums. Lastly, a tugging sensation, as if riding through sand, seemingly suspended their descent. As quickly as it happened, it was over. The two continued their descent, unsure of how to ask the other if they had felt it too.

Looking over, the blonde discovered that her healthy brunette cohort now resembled that of an elderly man, who by no means, was capable of undertaking their current endeavor. Her body went numb as she let out a terrifying scream. Surprised by her sudden outburst, he looked to her. Her blonde hair was now a stark white and her face sunken in. His eyes grew wide as his mouth fell open. With the reflection in their sunglasses, each could see what the other saw.

There was a flash of light and another reverberating sound followed by a car horn. Caught off guard by the vehicle, the man overcompensated, steering his bike into the path of this cohort.

Looking in the rearview mirror, the driver muttered under his breath, "Goddamn kids."


	2. Chapter 2

Scully entered the office Friday morning, thoroughly stirring the clouds of white creamer in her coffee until the contents of her Styrofoam cup reached a homogenous consistency. She placed the small straw in her mouth, wiping away the few drops of coffee that lingered. The flavorful concoction awakened her tastebuds.

With her left arm occupied with her cup of coffee and a file tucked under her arm, she tossed the straw in the wastebasket. She arched an eyebrow as it landed against a pile of crumpled papers.

"Mulder?" She called to the seemingly empty office.

"Yeah," came a disembodied voice from the backside of the office. The metallic rolling of a file cabinet drawer closing and another one opening sent a small wave of impending dread through Scully. She approached his desk and placed the folder atop an already open one. Glancing at it sideways, she noticed it was new. Retrieving it from underneath the other file, she skimmed over the text.

"Mulder?" She called, still analyzing the text. There was a shuffle of boxes. Taking a sip of coffee, she continued to read. As she turned, Mulder approached her with a stack of files in hand. The wave grew a little stronger.

"I brought you the results for the Ipson case." She watched him slide the results to the edge of his desk. He tossed his files down and turned to retrieve another item out of the cabinets.

"There wasn't a significant amount of opium in his tox report. "

He unbuttoned his cuffs and began rolling his sleeves. Slightly irritated by his lack of acknowledgement, Scully pressed her tongue to her lip. Cocking her head to the side, she set her coffee down and continued.

"I did, however, notice that his cuspids were nearly three-quarters of an inch.

Still nothing from Mulder.

"Then he woke up, did a little jig, turned into a bat, and flew off into the night." She placed her hand on her hip. "Mulder, what has got you so preoccupied? And what is this?" She emphasized with the folder in her hand.

"The Lone Gunmen sent me some things," Mulder answered, distractedly. "And that," he looked up briefly and nodded to the file in her hand, "is our new case."

There was the cascade. Scully scoffed in disbelief, there went another weekend to herself.

"Mulder, I-"

"Ahem, Agents," Assistant Director Skinner interrupted. Both turned and looked to their boss.

"Yes sir?" Mulder answered.

"I have your tickets ready, your flight leaves in an hour."

"Thank you sir." Mulder said. He looked to Scully. "I'm packed," he smiled sheepishly throwing one last file unto his pile.

Scully smirked and rolled her eyes. "To Missouri."

"May I get you anything?" The flight attendant asked Mulder.

"I'm fine for now, thanks."

She smiled, "And your wife?"

He looked over to Scully, who watched out the window, her arms folded, pouting. He grinned to himself.

"Honey, would you like anything?"

Turning her head, she looked at Mulder, then to the flight attendant and smiled.

"No thank you." She looked back down to Mulder, who was smiling smugly. She blew him a kiss and turned back to the window. He turned to the attendant and chuckled, lightly patting Scully's knee, and rested his hand there. The attendant smiled and turned to the other row.

Scully turned, the smile gone. She looked Mulder straight in the eye and raised her eyebrow. There was a pause. Without breaking eye contact, she picked up his hand and patted it. Her faux smile, he'd come to know, and secretly love, indicated her indignation.

"Hands to you yourself."

He brought her covering hand to his lips. He kissed it and smiled.

"Yes dear."

Taking back her hand, she crossed her arms and looked out the window.

They didn't speak until they were at their rental car, the red Taurus.

"You want to drive?"

"No thanks Mulder, since I won't be having a weekend, I'm going to treat this as much as I can like a small vacation."

Mulder loaded the last suitcase into the trunk.

"Suit yourself. You did bring a swimsuit, right?"

Scully sighed, climbed in the passenger side, and closed the door. Mulder closed the trunk and laughed to himself. Putting on his sunglasses, he opened his door and climbed in.

Tree after tree past outside their windows as they drove along the highway outside of Branson. The trees were full, lush, and green from the April rain showers. The Missouri weather wasn't too hot for the end of May. It was the perfect weather for their forestry investigation.

Scully looked down at their map after the passing road sign.

"About another three miles."

Mulder looked out over the horizon as the trees tapered on the incline.

"What's special about this case?" Scully asked.

"This is the fourth one of its kind. The two victims went missing then were discovered two days later," he turned to her, "100 miles from where they were suppose to be."

"They were cyclists, Mulder, 100 miles could have easily been covered in two days."

"True, however, these two were originally training in Camdenton. If they were going to train on Federal or State highways, they would've needed clearance with officials, which meant an itinerary and a safety vehicle. Which isn't on file."

"Maybe it was spur of the moment."

"I was thinking that, but if you're a seasoned athlete training for a triathlon, and I could be wrong Scully, but isn't it your goal not to exceed the mileage of your actual race?"

Scully flipped to their CODs.

"Marathoners don't exceed twenty miles the week before their race. Perhaps, they were training for a higher caliber competition. These two seemed healthy enough, though the body can only withstand so much." She paused. "They're cause of death is listed as exhaustion, but no formal autopsy was performed."

Mulder nodded, "Keep reading."

"Time of death... was two hours after their club instructor reported them missing to the police."

Mulder could see the small caravan of vehicles. He slowed.

"I'm no math wizard Scully, but 100 miles in three hours, with hills," the car came to a stop, "unless they were training for the Olympics, I don't think that number is humanly possible."


	3. Chapter 3

Mulder shifted the car into park and looked over to Scully. "Ready?" Scully rolled her eyes and opened her door; she knew Mulder was already formulating a theory.

Upon exiting the car, the agents were met by local sheriff, Mike Yolkin. He was a young man, blonde. His neatly pressed brown uniform gave him a more authoritative appearance; only a small amount of dirt dusted the cuffs of his pants.

"Agent Mulder, Agent Scully," he nodded, "Glad you could make it out so quickly."

"Deputy Yolkin," Mulder greeted.

"I hear you've seen cases like this before," the Deputy began walking towards the yellow crime tape, the agents followed.

"What exactly have you heard?" Mulder asked.

The Deputy shrugged his shoulders. "You deal with the unexplained."

"What exactly is unexplainable about this case?" Scully asked. Mulder glanced over at her. Stepping off the asphalt unto the dirt-covered shoulder, the Deputy lifted the tape allowing the agents to pass.

"Well," he continued, "For one, there's no reason or real explanation for them ending up so far from the road. And secondly, there's no path or tracks."

The three continued to walk farther into the trees, which grew denser, while the brush became thicker. The amount of foliage that covered the ground could have easily swallowed any tracks the cyclists might have caused,_ if_ they had caused any.

The Deputy stopped and pointed to another taped area. It lacked the thick overflowing foliage compared to the immediate surroundings. Only a few twigs and a handful of leaves dotted the ground where the bodies had been found.

"Our field agents did a thorough sweep of the area, if they missed anything- well, I'm not sure if there's anything to miss. The bodies are back at the morgue if you'd like to examine them." Radio chattered interrupted Deputy Yolkin. "Excuse me," he turned from the agents to answer.

Mulder crouched to examine the open area while Scully looked back out to the road.

"That's some luck to have caught sight of their reflectors, Mulder. That's at least 200 yards."

"Luck, Scully?" Mulder queried, pleasantly surprised by her empirical statement, as he collected a small sample of dirt and a leaf from the ground.

"Yes, Mulder," she answered, "For the driver to pass by at just the right hour of day, or minute, to see the reflection from the bikes; there are so many variables that could have kept them lost for months, years even, for that matter."

Mulder stood. "I was expecting more of Seneca's, 'preparation meets opportunity'."

"I don't think anyone is prepared to find a dead body, or wants the opportunity too, Mulder. Unless you think the driver already knew."

"No, he didn't know. Media coverage has the state primed to find this two, Scully. His find is mostly attributed to the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon. He probably wouldn't have given it a second thought if he hadn't heard it on the radio that morning."

Scully was at a lost for words. Her brow furrowed in utter confusion while her mouth hung open, flabbergasted at Mulder's simplistic, yet entirely scientific justification. Mulder cocked his head to the side quizzically, lightly bit his lip and raised his eyebrows, genuinely inquiring Scully's blatant expression.

"They have the bodies ready, Agent Scully." Deputy Yolkin interrupted. "I could take her if you'd still like to look around, Agent Mulder."

"That won't be necessary," Mulder said. "If you could, however, direct us."

"Sure," the Deputy answered as they began walking towards the road. The subtle tension between the agents amplified the rustling and cracking of the flora with every step they took. Deputy Yolkin walked to the left of them, mulling over something to say in order to break the tension.

"Dumb luck finding them right," he quipped.

Scully's azure gaze lifted from the sea of green to meet the reflective lens of Deputy Yolkin's sunglasses. He chuckled uneasily. The tension, now thick like a morning fog, choked him until he cleared his throat. Muttering an apology, he turned his gaze to the road. Snapping her head to Mulder, she stared at him in disbelief as he snickered quietly to himself.

Reaching their respected vehicles, Deputy Yolkin spoke, "I'll let the coroner know you're coming."

"Thanks," Scully said sheepishly, apologetic for the previous moment.

"It's about an hour north, we have some food at the station but if you want to stop for sandwiches-"

"No!" Both Mulder and Scully hastily interjected before Deputy Yolkin finished his proposition. Deputy Yolkin slunk back in surprise.

Mulder chuckled shamefully, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily. "What we mean is 'No, thank you'. The sooner we get there," he searched for his next words.

"The better," Yolkin finished.

Mulder smiled, "Exactly."


	4. Chapter 4

Pulling up to the corner's office, adjacent from the precinct, Mulder dropped Scully off at the hospitable entrance.

Mulder had decided to get as much information as he could about the case, while Scully had promised to do_ only_ the autopsies, then she would allow him all the time he needed to make sense of the case.

"I'll call you when I'm finished Mulder," she said, standing outside of the passenger door, leaning back in slightly.

"Have a good day at work dear." Mulder smiled; a small gleam in his eye.

Scully gave him her usual blank, exasperated expression before rolling her eyes and shutting the door. Mulder laughed to himself and drove back into traffic. As he did so, he couldn't help as his hazel eyes watched her retreating figure in the rearview mirror; his smile a little wider.

Turning into the parking lot, Mulder spotted Deputy Yolkin standing next to his car. In a blasé manner, Mulder parked the red Taurus in the spot next to him.

"I called ahead," Yolkin said, "had 'em grab us some food." He looked past Mulder and into the car, "Your partner?"

"I dropped her off," he nodded his head to the north.

Yolkin nodded silently while he and Mulder walked into the building.

Once inside, the front lobby coldly welcomed the gentlemen. The refreshing air conditioning sent a shiver down Mulder's spine as it instantly cooled the perspiration on his neck. A large wooden desk blockaded the free flow of movement between detainment and the back offices. Slumped in a chair, a very large, very, masculine woman leaned forward as the men approached. Yolkin nodded his head and greeted her.

"Olga."

"Michael," her hoarse voice responded. She looked suspiciously at Mulder and leered.

"This is Special Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI," Yolkin informed the woman.

"Got your badge?"

"Oh, yeah," Mulder fumbled uncharacteristically as he searched his pockets for his badge. The sarcastic remarks that ran through his mind momentarily derailed his proper functioning. Finally locating the leather flap, Mulder pulled his badge from his pocket and presented it to the looming woman.

Olga's dissatisfaction quickly dissolved and a small grin played on her lips as she glanced at his badge.

"Quite a big boy, aren't we?"

"I beg your pardon?" Mulder asked slightly startled.

Olga simply tucked her chin and raised her eyebrows in a salacious manner, her coquettish smirk once again confounding Mulder. He simply smiled in return and took note not to approach Olga alone, or mention this to Scully.

As she let the men through, Mulder let out a puff of air, "Charming."

Yolkin laughed, "She'll lay you out flat."

"I don't doubt that."

"Keep on her good side, you're better off there." Yolkin said as they walked towards the back of the office. "You'll have to get your, uh, partner on her good side too."

Mulder released a single boisterous laugh, before quickly catching himself, shaking his head. Yolkin looked at him for a moment. Grinning a little, Mulder kept his mouth shut. If he had learned anything in the past seven years, every thought would remain, between he and Scully.

"You'll have access to everything you need," Yolkin said, reaching for the door to the office.

The door opened to the makeshift office, where a desk, a chair and a computer sat arranged in a typical fashion. The solitude and claustrophobic nature of the room provided Mulder the perfect location to conduct research. A small pile of files sat on the edge of the desk next to a sack lunch and a bag of Spitz sunflower seeds.

Mulder walked past Yolkin who stood against the open door.

Mulder grinned, "I made never want to leave."

Yolkin smiled, "If we have anything new, you'll be the first to know." He turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Mulder opened the bag of seeds and the files on the desk. He briefly scanned the contents before organizing them in his usual manner. Grabbing a handful of seeds, the lanky agent sunk back in his chair. Pausing for a moment, he eyed the desk drawer. Leaning forward, he opened the hollowed compartment to discover four perfectly sharpened lead pencils. A smile spread across his face as he sat sank back down.

"Definitely won't leave."

_**XF**_

Snapping on a fresh pair of white latex gloves, Scully turned her attention to the female body. She started the overhead recorder and began the visual examination.

"Case IJKV 234, Isabelle Jenkin age 23, blonde, 5'6'' 131lbs, Branson, Missouri, May 30th. Found along side Joshua Marshall, off highway 13; beginning of visual examination."

Scully lifted her arm to inspect the posterior surface.

"Bruising up the arm and on along the shoulder, as well on the knees and upper thigh indicate postmortem contusions." She felt along her clavicle. "Right clavicle is fractured." Looking over the area, Scully noticed a cluster of small blisters along her hairline. Running a latex finger over the bumps, Scully spoke to the recorder.

"There's a small grouping of blisters beginning at the hairline that run along the back side of her ear." Scully's brows knitted in confusion. "They don't appear to be from a sunburn, or poison ivy," She looked closer. "But possibly from a heat source, size and color indicate third degree burns." Scully paused and allowed her words to register in her mind. "What?"

Pulling back from the body, Scully processed her discovery. Initial reports had not indicated electrocution or stated any foreign contact to the subjects. The pattern held no distinctive order for Scully to determine how or what had caused the burns.

Turning on her heal, Scully flipped back the sheet to reexamine the male body on the table behind her. With perturbation, Scully searched the same area on him, rolling his head to the side.

Missing evidence like this was unlike the redheaded medical examiner, however, in more extreme cases, wasn't improbable.

Peeling off the latex, Scully discarded the gloves, and changed the tape back to the previous examination. Dawning a new pair of gloves, Scully pressed play and began a second thorough visual sweep.

"Upon visual examination of the female subject, a small cluster of blisters along the posterior hairline appears to be the result of third degree burns. Second examination shows no relative burns in the same location on the male."

Pausing only for a moment, Scully noticed the contrasting purple discoloration of the contusion against the edge of the white cloth covering his right thigh. Acting on impulse, Scully redirected her focus to the area. Now intently looking for the characteristic of burnt skin, Scully was able to discern the causation for the damaged area pertained to both road rash and a second heat source.

Hidden among the pattern of road rash, a thin streak of burnt flesh began and ended at the edges of the bruising.

Scully gently touched the area but when the typical muscle density gelatinously concaved against her forefingers, she knew the topical examination was just the beginning.

Grabbing the scalpel, Scully carefully brought the metallic blade to the skin. Creating a makeshift pattern with the incision, she moved the tissue to expose the underlying muscle.

"The vastus lateralis and tensor fascia lata are severely damaged."

Taking the scalpel to the muscle, she attentively separated the fibrous tissue exposing the bone.

"The femur appears to have..."

The expected grayish ossification of the bone was instead a luminescence pearl hue. The solid compact tissue of the bone's outer layer was worn so thin the few spindles of cancellous tissue that remained within were visible. What should have been the strongest, most durably reinforced bone of the body was now as brittle as a thin layer of crystallized sugar; the slightest touch would undoubtedly shatter the structure.

In an awestruck manner, the word slowly rasped from her lips.

"_Oh. My. God."_


	5. Chapter 5

Flipping through one last file, Mulder grabbed another large handful of sunflower seeds.

The information the lone agent had collected included the basics; Joshua Marshall and Isabelle Jenkin were seasoned athletes, originally from Camdenton, no criminal records, respectable individuals who happened across an unfortunate turn of events, which led to their untimely demise.

The concerning matter of distance and location, however, offered the obvious explanation of extraterrestrial abduction, yet lacked sufficient secondary evidence, which prevented Mulder from comfortably drawing that conclusion. Nonetheless proficient, Mulder had several other theories to entertain; all of which presently waited on Scully's findings.

_**XF**_

Stepping into the warm evening sun, Scully pressed the 'call' button and brought the receiver to her ear. The authoritative clack of her black pumps muffled to a soft clop against the asphalt with each confident stride. A thin sheen of perspiration accrued beneath her two layers of clothing. The only thing on the agent's mind was a cool shower and a succulent dinner.

The line clicked over.

"Mulder, it's me."

"I'll be right there."

The familiar and soothing resonation of her confidant sounded in the phone, sending a titillating wave of ease through her tired soul.

Placing her phone back in her pocket, Scully slowed her brisk walk to a sedate pace.

Seconds later, Mulder emerged from the entrance of the precinct. Coming to meet her halfway, the two agents stopped at the edge of the sidewalk. Each presented themselves in their customary manner, neither of them commenting on their disheveled appearances from a hard day's work. Lifting the files in an offertory gesture, Scully raised her head, squinting against the setting sun, to meet Mulder's gaze.

As Mulder grasped the files, he tried to read the expression on her face; Scully's lips pursed ever so slightly, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, and a distinguishable crease of disgust knitted against her brow.

She remained quiet as he took the file fully into his possession. He gave her a sad smile with a compassionate and empathic quality, silently thanking her.

"Have you eaten?"

Dropping her shoulders, Scully looked to the pavement, collecting herself. She sighed and returned to his gaze. His hazel eyes were soft, attentively focused on her; the golden rays shimmered through his hair. She looked at his person, noting his tie removed and first button undone. He tucked his chin, still concernedly fixated on her.

"I'm fine," she answered quietly.

"So it seems. But you still didn't answer my question... Scully, you-"

"The contusions indicated they died before ending up in their location. There were, um," she licked her lips, "second and third degree burns on both of them."

Mulder opened the file and began skimming the report. Scully paused and allowed him to read.

"Hollowed?" He asked.

Scully slowly blinked and nodded her head. Preparing to answer the second question she knew Mulder would ask, Scully opened her mouth and inhaled.

"Hmehm." The gravelly sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted the female agent before she could utter a syllable. They turned to find Olga standing in the entranceway, a dissatisfied grimace tugging on her lips.

"We do not conduct business outside," she reprimanded with an emphasizing Slavic drawl.

Scully looked dubiously at Mulder. He shrugged.

_**XF**_

Once inside, Scully waited as Mulder collected the files.

"So...now what?"

"Well," he started, "I want to interview their instructor, Holly Rein, who reported them missing."

"They would've been missing for 24 hours for her to file."

"True, but, their gym is state of the art, with a strict safety policy. When training for long races, encompassing tens to even hundreds of miles, athletes possess a "guider chip".

"A guider chip?"

"It's like a safety chip. It records the time and GPS location; it also has a page system, for emergencies. It works off radio frequencies, essentially a one-way radio. The information is sent back to the "box" where it stored on a computer. The guider chips Joshua and Isabelle checked out tracked them for a portion of their trip, then their transmission unexpectedly disappeared."

Mulder pulled out the pieces of paper depicting the guider chips and the information he was summarizing.

"When the two didn't return within their allotted arrival time, Ms. Rein contacted the authorities and gave them this information. Due to the 24 hour policy, as you so duly noted, the official missing persons report wasn't filed until the following day."

"When did they disappear from radar?"

There was a knock as Deputy Yolkin opened the door.

"Mulder, Scully, I think you need to hear this."

The agents stood and followed him down the halls to the interrogation room.

"His name is Dr. Brad Minso, claims he saw our cyclists around the time their instructor reported them missing."

"Where did he see them?"

"On the highway."

"Which one?"

"Highway 160, just outside of Branson."

The three of them stopped outside the interrogation room. Mulder and Scully shared a glance and then looked back at Yolkin.

"We took his statement at the front. We thought you'd want to ask him some questions."

Mulder opened the door and Scully followed inside.

The middle-aged man, dressed in a business suit, sat in the chair- vexed, irritated and fidgeting. His deep brown eyes lifted from his watch to the agents; settling on Scully as she placed herself in the corner, arms folded across her chest.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Minso." The man's gaze left Scully and met Mulder's. "I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder, this is my partner, Dr. Dana Scully."

Scully cocked her head, slightly surprised by the abnormal introduction.

The man sitting, visually calmed and cracked a smile at Scully.

"We're investigating," Scully scowled subtly, in a manner only Mulder would catch.

"The situation of the cyclists. Do you mind if we ask you some questions?"

"Not at all," he replied, looking back over to Scully.

"You saw the cyclists Tuesday correct?"

"Yes, Tuesday. I was on my way home from a meeting with the director of the hospital. As I rounded the corner on the highway, I nearly clipped the two of them. There was one in the blue, if I remember correctly, a man, he was leading the blonde, in the silver helmet.

"Do you know what time this was roughly?" Mulder asked.

"Hmm, around six."

Mulder nodded. "Were there other motorists on the road?"

"I don't remember seeing any. I mean, there wasn't any one in the on coming lane, no one behind me." He leaned forward. "Agent Mulder", his tone lowered, as if he were about to reveal the JFK assassin, "at their neck breaking speed," he lifted a little, "I'm surprised their clothes weren't on fire."


End file.
